


Letter from the past

by TruthfulWolfhunter



Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Letters, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28611786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthfulWolfhunter/pseuds/TruthfulWolfhunter
Summary: Jon is living in the future. He gets a knock at the door. It is a man claiming to have a letter for him.A story of Damian writing a letter to Jon.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 109





	Letter from the past

“And you are?” Jon asked, staring dubiously at the man before him. He didn’t usually get oddly dressed men turning up at his door with wide smiles and excited looks on their faces. Unless they were holding guns and/or explosives.

“We are researchers from the historical records office of The University of America.” The man standing at the front said.

“Okay?” Jon looked blankly at him.

“You are Superboy, aka Jonathan Samual Kent, correct?” The man again spoke.

“Well! I am, but I am not really used to-”

“Oh my, it is him!” The men started to chat among each other excitedly. “Sorry, this must seem very strange.”

“Just a bit yes.”

“We have in our possession a letter. For you.”

“A what?”

“A letter from almost one thousand years ago.” The man gestured to his colleagues who were hurrying back to their vehicle. They lifted a large box from the back that looked ancient. You could see the steel had rusted, and the sides were cracking.

“That doesn’t look like a letter.” Jon said, wondering if he should just close the door on these nutters.

“Oh, sorry.” The man chuckled. “No, that is just one of the 3 safety boxes which surround the letter. We have been examining this for years and we think we know how to open it.”

“Umm okay, bring it inside I guess. You can set it on the table.” Jon stepped aside, wondering if he should offer to carry the heavy looking box. But the men carrying it seemed to be treating it like some sacred tomb, and he worried that if he jostled it they might be upset.

The box was set down on the table and the men gathered around. They dusted off the door to the box, revealing a keyhole. The man pulled out a key that looked far newer than the box.

“The original was lost a few centuries ago, but we had this exact replica printed to fit the lock perfectly.” With a loud click, the lock opened. A small beeping sound came from within.

“Oh yes, this is the first set of safety protocols.” He looked at Jon, “We analysed the device, and believe this stage is voice locked to a particular person. Jonathan, can you please talk to the box?”

‘40 seconds till self destruction sequence. Please close the lid or enter voice command.’ A robotic voice rang out.

“40 seconds!?” Jon yelled.

‘Voice recognised. Jonathan Samual Kent. Unlocking second access panel.’ A click sounded, and a wiring from within indicated that something had jammed attempting to open.

“Oh don't worry, we find it quite improbable that it would have actually detonated. The explosive material is likely inert at this point.” The man reached into the box. “The hinges are rusted slightly, but after this layer we are relatively sure there has been no air contamination, so the letter should still be unspoiled.”

Jon stepped back as the men fussed over the next door. And fussed. And fussed some more. After nearly half an hour of discussion, they finally agreed to pry it open with a piece of metal. The metal was lined up precisely wedged into the opening, and then forced open with a much more violent motion than Jon had been expecting.

With that lock open, they lifted a smaller box from within. It was perfect, no rust or dents on it anywhere. Several of the men started taking notes and pictures. A single red light blinked on, directly in the centre of the box.

‘Please provide a DNA sample of Jonanathan Samual Kent to access contents.’ It commanded. A small slit opened beneath the red light, with another set of lights helpfully outlining the shape of a drop of blood.

The men were all looking at him. With a sigh, Jon bit down on his thumb, letting a small amount of blood drip into the box. It beeped and started flashing slowly.

‘DNA match confirmed.’ With another beep the box lid slid back. Inside was an envelope. Written on it, in perfect curved lettering, was his name.

He knew that writing. “Damian,” he whispered.

“Ah told you my hypothesis was correct!” one of the men yelled. “Our records showed it was likely deposited into the vault at Gotham by Damian Wayne, some time in the early Twenty First century.” Several other men started to grumble that until the letter was read, no conclusive verdict could be drawn.

“He sent this to me?” He reached in, and before anyone could stop him, picked up the letter.

“Please be careful!” The man who had knocked on his door almost reached for his arm, stopping himself at the last second. “That letter is a historical artifact. It is vital to our understanding of twenty-first century cultural history! It is-”

“A letter from my best friend.” Jon said firmly, “I am going to read this. And I would like to do so in privacy. I can let you have it once I am done.” He flew off into another room, locking the door behind himself.

Jon stared down at the envelope. Why on earth did Damian go to all this effort? What could have possibly been so important? He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

-x-x-

Dear Jon,

I am aware that writing a letter to be sent to you one thousand years in the future might be the dumbest thing I have done. There are a million things that could go wrong between me writing this, sealing it and putting it in the hands of others to keep safe until you arrive. But if by some chance you are holding this letter I am grateful.

If anyone else is reading this, please be aware that you are a nosy bastard, and this is a private letter. Please place it back in the box and reseal it. Though if you got through all of the safety measures I doubt me asking nicely will stop you. So fuck you.

By the time you read this I will be long dead. Almost certainly for hundreds of years. I don't know how long you’ll have been in the future when you receive this, but for me it has been sixteen years since you left. They have been long hard years for us here. The usual planetary invasions, cosmic events, Batcalfing emergencies, etc. Nothing we couldn’t handle, of course, although many were lost along the way.

I assumed my father’s role as Batman recently. I thought you would like to know that. But the feeling is hollow, somehow. No victory or successful mission has been able to fill this emptiness in me.

I have been thinking a lot about the last time I did not feel so hollow inside. The only times that came to mind were in those last few months before you went to space.

I miss you my friend.

I miss you in a way I cannot fully express. I wish that when I was younger, I could have told you how you improved my existence by just being my friend.

When we met, Jon, I was angry all the time. Angry at my parents, angry at criminals, but mostly just filled with anger at the world that made me who I was. I could not find the light that others saw in people. To me there were only bad people doing bad things, and those few who actively chose to fight them. Then you entered my life.

You, with all your naive optimism and love of this world. Your love for the people who lived here, and the joy you found in helping others. You showed me that it isn’t enough to just do good, but that you must do it with the purpose of seeing others become better through your actions. You forced me to see the light. Jon, you were my revelation.

As you are aware Jon, I did not trust you when we were teamed up by our dads. You are a half breed alien with godlike powers and at the time limited ability to control them. I had no reason to trust or consider you a reliable ally. Yet you quickly became one of the only people I could count on to consistently to stop me when I was going too far. I learnt to believe in you and what you thought was the right thing to do, solely because you were the one saying it was right.

Your stupid lovablity and kindness Jon it was impossible for me to not want to be closer to that light. So I did not stay away from you despite my initial judgement of you. I have never been happier to have been wrong about someone.

Jon I wish I told you all this when you were here. I wish I had not been so closed off and stupid. I wish I was not a coward.

But even now I am being a coward. Even in this is a letter to the future. One that you will likely never read, I am still struggling to write the words.

The truth is Jon, if I had only one wish in the universe, given to me by some great deity or another, that allowed me to tell you one thing, it would be that I loved you more than anything in the whole multiverse.

I Love You.

I love your light. I love your smile. I love the way you look when someone lives up to your opinion of them. I love the way you would somehow always get me to go along with your terrible plans. I love all of you.

It took me years to realise, and when I did it was too late. You were gone. Far beyond my ability to pursue you, and tell you what is in my heart.

I will never know if you felt the same or different. If you are reading this there is no way for you to send a reply.

But I needed to at least try and tell you those words somehow before my time in this life is over.

I love you Jon.

I miss you and wish I was with you. But I will settle for this, a letter sent via the long way in some vain hope that the locks will hold, that the city I place it in will not crumble and that somehow it reaches your hands.

I hope your new life is everything you want it to be. I truly do.

I will see you again some day my friend.

With all my heart,

Damian.

-x-x-

Jon didn’t realise he was crying until the tears landed on the page. He hit the ground with a dull thud, letting the letter fall from his hands.

Damian loves him. Damian loved him. Damian had loved him.

Damian is dead.

He let his head fall back hitting the wall behind him. “I am sorry.”

“I love you.” He spoke the words to the empty room.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and just let the pain hit him.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took far too long to write for something this short hope you enjoyed it.


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